


A Cold Winter's Eternity

by krumnchy



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Not Beta Read, slight depictions of violence/blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krumnchy/pseuds/krumnchy
Summary: Prince Theodore (Snatcher) runs for an exit, any exit, but is met with the sight of the unfortunate end of his kingdom and its previous residents.
Kudos: 21





	A Cold Winter's Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> it's really short but it's late and im on my chromebook writing stuff on ao3 bc i dont have my phone and i can't sleep LMAO
> 
> name inspo comes from Ina(CosmicKouhai) Chapter 3: Contractual Obligations
> 
> please read it, it's well worth your time and i'm really enjoying it !!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/21541297/chapters/51351829
> 
> (sorry for any typos in advance, no beta read lol)

He needed to get away.

And he needed to get away _fast._

He didn’t know how long he was… gone, but it was far too long.

The small kingdom of Subcon had already reached its end. A brutal one, filled with spears of ice that pierced skin like wet tissue and felt no mercy. The evidence was everywhere in the destroyed homes and cracked brick paths. He worried for what may been been inside those homes... but he had to get moving. He was too close to the manor to be safe.

Theodore huffed despite no longer needing to breathe and pushed his way through large, opaque chunks of ice. Large blue ice pillars jutted out of snow as far as the eye could see and the smell of iron hung in the air.

_The_ _prince knew it wasn’t._

Theodore continued to trot throughout the snow in search of a place to hide. Preferably, a place to live. But it was hard to focus on an escape when everywhere he went, he would see a former resident. A former blacksmith. A former acquaintance. A former child.

He kept on, harsh winds jostling and whipping his cloak around to no end. He wondered if he’d ever find it. It was too much. The pained look in their eyes.

He could almost imagine it, but when images of the one who caused such horror entered his mind he felt sick.

Their faces would not let his mind rest. Pained. Screaming. Running for their dear lives from the one that was supposed to protect and guide them.

And where was he?  
  
Trapped in a lousy cellar, left to decompose because of a mishap.

The prince shook his head and found some more large, jagged spikes of ice in his path, some tinted with an ominous crimson.

Theodore shuddered. 

He stepped around them, not daring to stare at the ice any longer afraid he might find something inside. A former painter. A former blacksmith.

He was starting to feel nauseous.

A former neighbor. A former doctor. A former tourist.

He quickened his pace with a nonexistent heart beating in his ears. Louder and louder.

Crimson stained the powdery white snow and he heard ringing in his ears.

A former husband. A former wife.

  
  


A former daughter... 

He choked, stomach dropping as he skid across the snow floor. Hands and legs shaking violently as the prince gazed at the scene in front of him.

Drained of all color… of all _life._

A former friend.

The prince’s voice was barely above a whisper. He approached the bright blue and broken figure.

_"...Camellia…?”_

He choked back a sob, eyeing the girl’s current state.

Her bright red hair and freckles had faded, and the once cheerful and delighted face was drenched in utter fear. She was terrified. Running for her life, stumbling, pushing others ahead in hopes for their safety from an ice cold witch.

She’d frozen completely over, but despite how strong this ice was, she was in terrible shape.

Her left leg had broken off at her mid-thigh and there were various other chips and cracks along her body twisting up her arm, resulting in a missing finger.

The florist he once knew was gone. His friend was dead and it was all because of that cold hearted, obsessive, manipulative _**bitch.**_

...What he expected was a slew of curses and hair pulling from his part, but all he felt was thick, warm tears flowing over his cheeks, staining his cloak with a fluorescent yellow as he gently held one hand on the statue’s face.

He was sad. He was so, so, so sad.

So sad he no longer had a friend… a family… someone to call home.

And in the midst of a sob, he wrapped himself around the statue and cries.

He cries and cries and cries and holds on tight because he’s got no one else.

The prince is all alone.


End file.
